I can feel the screams and the music reverberating through the thin concrete walls, vibrating under my feet and into the metal bench I’m sitting on. I start wrapping up my hands in the white medical tape they give all competitors, fat lot of good it does me, but it’s my ritual none the less. Releasing the tension as I continue sitting there by rolling all my joints through their range of motion waiting for that very satisfying crack to happen. I reach up and smooth my hands over my hair trying to tame it in my bun, the waves refusing to co-operate. My headphones are playing my pump-up playlist so loud that I can’t hear beyond the lyrics and guitar riff. The song builds until it comes to an almighty crescendo, that launches me out of my seat and has me air punching invisible opponents. I start singing, not caring if anyone is around to hear it, or see it. No-one would make a comment even if they did, I think I frightened the last person who interrupted my ritual a little too much. The thoughts of that scene in the Disney movie with the Llama where he threw the old man off the bridge for interrupting his groove? I may have thrown the person through a window instead. In my defence though, they weren’t a very nice person to begin with, and they only interrupted me to tell me that I am a bad dancer. That is just rude.

I continue to sync my breathing and punches with the music, slowing down as the song comes to an end. With the end of the song comes the killing calm I’ve learnt over the last few months. After my abrupt exit from the pack I promised myself I would never be a victim again, so I changed martial arts from a hobby to a full-time job, I trained until my skin bled and my bones ached. I trained until even that wasn’t enough. Somewhere along the line, I started enjoying hurting my opponents just as much as I loved the adrenaline of fight. Being a lone female wolf shifter, you catch on quick about who was your friend and who was your enemy. Unfortunately for me I met more of the unfriendly types on my travels. Those unfriendly types however, are how I ended up here in Montana, in a semi-underground shifter fight club called the Pit. As the undefeated female champion.

My face morphs into a look of disgust as I look around the cold, dirty concrete room, my phone and casual clothing still sitting on the metal bench. The yellow and orange stained showers dripping water from the last batch of fighters, fighting gear and tape strewn all around the room. The scent of sweat, blood and something else causing my nose to scrunch up in revulsion. Picking up my belongings, I throw them into my grey locker that is littered with bumper stickers. I turn my phone off and shove that in too before slamming the locker closed.

Standing at the entrance of the locker rooms I wait to hear my name called, I have less than a minute left until my fight starts, so I luckily won’t have to stand here looking a little stupid for much longer. I genuinely don’t understand the importance of these entrances, this is underground fighting not the fucking UFC. We get in the cage, we fight till submission or unconsciousness and then we leave. A grand entrance isn’t going to change the outcome of the fight.

I hear the voice over the speaker hush the crowd down to near silence, I flex my fingers in the tape in anticipation, trying to loosen the tension across the knuckles. I close my eyes when I hear the slimy voice of the announcer start to speak, allowing my anger to rise to the surface.

“Alright Alright, I know you have been waiting for this fight allll niiiigghht looongg…” he says in a very suggestive tone.

God I want to punch him in his tiny little head. The resounding male howls and whoops that I hear make me want to roll my eyes. Apparently girl on girl is hot in any form, even when they are beating the shit out of each other.

“The first of two female shifter fights of the night; we’re in for a treat. The first fight is wolf against wolf. Let’s not waste time with bullshit, Stephanie your opponent for the night is Ava,” At least he cuts straight to the point, and with that introduction my eyes flash open and I walk out of the training room, and straight towards the cage.

Surrounding the octagon shaped ring is rusted chain link fencing up to the roof, with only one way in or out, a door that is locked until someone submits, is knocked out, or is dead.

I can feel the eyes of hundreds of supernatural following me. I can see their mouths moving, the tension rising in the air from the aggression pouring off the spectators, but I hear nothing. The killing calm is a nifty little trick I learnt in my first few fights, drown out my sense of hearing before the fight in favour of my other senses, it drowns out all the bullshit.

The stands around the cage are filled, row upon row, built up four levels in a circular pattern around the cage. It makes the cage feel like a dirtier, smaller scale of the Colosseum; each fighter playing for the favour of the Emperor, or in my case, the large pot of money I win at the end of every match. Every step I take on the blood covered floor just riles me up further, my opponent already in the ring, trying to rally the crowd behind her. Stephanie is quite pretty by anyone’s standard, it’s a shame I may have to bruise her face. Her curly strawberry blonde swishing left and right in her pony tail as she moves about the cage. Her pale skin a stark contract to the black fight gear she has on. I approach the cage, giving a small head nod in acknowledgment to Allister, the seedy announcer. He really does look like a cockroach, with his small head, small beady eyes, narrow nose and mouse brown hair that looks perpetually greasy. I feel the vibration of the door slamming shut the second my feet press in to the mat of the cage. This is it.

The second the lights and buzzers signify the start of the match, Stephanie attacks. Luckily for me, I manage to dodge the fist coming straight for my temple. I swiftly spin, and round house kick her in the face before she can turn around. As my foot lowers back on the ground I bring myself into my fighting stance, ignoring the stinging I’m feeling in my toes from the impact of my kick.

Stephanie advances again, trying to kick my feet out from underneath me. I jump over her long sweeping legs trying to avoid falling to the floor. Before she has an opportunity to move. I crouch down quickly on the floor and drive my fist into her stomach, on my way back up I drive me knee into her nose. Yep, that was going to bruise her face. I should really remember to apologise for that later. That little lapse in concentration costs me a foot to the stomach, I fly back and hit the cage fence which has only the tiniest bit of give in it. I manage to roll to the side just as one of Stephanie’s clenched fists fly forward towards the space my face was just in.

I lunge towards her, picking her up at the hips and driving her into the ground. I pin her beneath my body and without a moment’s hesitation throw a few quick jabs to her face. She is bucking beneath me like I’m bull rider and manages to flip me off her on the last large thrust. I quickly stand and prepare for an attack I know is stalking me. Stephanie runs towards me as I shift my weight and quickly bring my knee up to make a slamming contact with her left side ribs. The impact of my hit drives her towards the barrier, I rush at her before she can move off the fence and try to land every blow I can into her unprotected left side. While trading punches, my wolf’s concentration waivers, searching for something I cannot see, not the regular behaviour for my wolf. She has two modes; asleep and vicious.

My gaze momentarily lands on a tall man behind Stephanie’s head who has just entered The Pit. He walks straight to the bar, not even looking over at the cage. The man in question is tall, dressed in a button up top and suit pants and has brown hair from what I can see. I tear my gaze away, having every intension of finding this man after the fight, maybe to burn off some adrenaline. I force my concentration back to the fight, my arms continuing to pound into the soft tissue of my opponent’s stomach.

Stephanie is growling and snarling at me, she is about to shift, I can feel the change in the air that accompanies a wolf shift and step out of her way. Within seconds, I am looking at a blonde wolf that comes up to my waist.

“Bad move Stephanie,” I taunt.

She lunges for me, except instead of getting entirely out of the way this time, I just let her shoulder push against me before I encircle my arms around her torso and squeeze. I wrestle her to the floor and pin her on the ground on her stomach. She can’t bite or scratch, I’m willing to bet she can’t shift with me on top of her either. I have her in a check mate position, all that’s left for her to do is submit. I really wish she would hurry this along, a sense of urgency building through me to find the man who walked past not even two minutes earlier.

After what seems like hours, Stephanie drops her head in defeat and thumps the mat with a paw, I count the thumps in my head, each one making my smile grow; One, Two, Three. Well, another win for me then! Twenty-two to zero! I stand up from the ground, quickly rocking back onto my heels, I reach a hand down to help a now human Stephanie stand up. As soon as she drops my hand I do a quick turn, bowing to appease the crowd. Stephanie catches my eye as she’s leaving the octagon, she gives me a brief nod of acceptance before pulling her shoulders back and walking out. I’ve got to respect that, at least she didn’t slink off swearing vengeance on me just because she couldn’t take a beating.

I get the nod from Allister that I’ve done everything I need to and walk out of the cage. As I approach I can see him go to open his mouth, before any squeak can exit his mouth I lift my bloodied, cut palm up and covey my best ‘do not fuck with me right now’ stare. Apparently, the message is well received because he scuttles back like the rat that he is. A gleeful little shiver runs down my spine when I think about my last confrontation with Allister, he had a quick meeting with my fist and my foot after I caught him trying to force himself on one of the medical staff we have here.

I look around for the tall man of deliciousness that caught my eye during the match, but I can’t see him through the hive of spectators. With one more unsuccessful glance across the room, I walk back through the hallway to the locker room. I have one more fight tonight, so there isn’t much point in me showering off and getting out of my gear. I walk back over to the sticker covered, paint chipped locker and grab my phone and headphones out. Closing the locker again, I turn around and sit on the cold metal bench again while pressing play on the playlist I’ve got saved. My focus on unwrapping my hands from the godawful tape that’s clinging and pulling over the skin on my knuckles, my head slowly nodding to the beat of the drums thrumming through my ears. The broad-shouldered brunette man’s image slingshots back into my mind. God! Why am I so fixated on him? You know what, fuck this! I’m not going to sit here and hide. I shoot up to my feet and pull open my locker once more, throw my phone and headphones back in, and spray on my deodorant, just in case I do see him. I stalk once again back out to the blood hungry hoard of supernaturals.

Wading through the crowd is a lot easier when I’m in my fighting gear, it makes people just that little apprehensive so that they physically part around me as I walk. Both my Wolf and I have all our senses attuned to finding this mystery man. I look over every face in the four-tiered spectator stands, and every face in the small vicinity around me, and nothing. Not a single person that even looks like him. I spend the next twenty minutes continuing my search around The Pit which yields nothing. Dammit! He must have already left! Of course, the one male I’ve been attracted to in over ten months just up and leaves before I can get to him, so typical of my luck. A drink is exactly what I need to take the edge off right now.

Once again that slight parting begins to happen, only subtle movements like shoulders concaving in, or rotating out of the way. My nick name should be Moses with this shit, I wonder if it would be funnier if I was holding a large stick, just the image in my head is enough to make me giggle under my breath. About fifteen meters away from the bar I see him, the sexy guy, walk out of the male training rooms and stand with a few other shifters I’ve regularly seen around here. He stands with his back to me and I can’t help but notice the black jeans he’s wearing. Man can he fill out a pair of jeans in the best way possible. Ok Ava, eyes off ass now. I walk closer, each step building the buzz of anticipating in me until I’m practically vibrating with nervous tension. I’m so close I can almost smell him when suddenly my Wolf starts trying to tear through my blocks to get to him. Holy shit, that’s never happened before. I can feel her claws digging into my mind and heart, her tail swishing rapidly in my chest and the yipping is driving me fucking crazy! It’s not until I take three extra steps and realise why she is acting that way. The aroma coming off this man is so knee buckling mouth-watering. As soon as the smell of mint chocolate and an earthy undertone registers in my brain, it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I take those last few steps towards the six-foot one male shifter standing in front of me, oh yeah, he’s a wolf shifter. I’d know that energy signature anywhere. My quivering hand reaches over towards his shoulder and I lightly tap him with my finger tips to get his attention. The man’s shoulders tense when he feels the feather light touches and he slowly starts to turn around. I try to absorb every detail of his face into my memory with every millimetre revealed; the unblemished olive skin, the angular set of his jaw and his few day-old stubble, the long straight nose and the softest set of russet coloured eyes framed in eyelashes any girl would kill for. I’m finally faced with the full force of his looks, and I watch as his senses and wolf become aware of the situation unfolding in front of him. His beautiful eyes transiting from boredom, to curiosity to stark surprise, his mouth opening and closing like a giant fish.

I feel a smirk spreading over my face, my eyes locked on his as I open my mouth and say the words that have been dying to burst through since the moment I smelt him.

“Hello Mate.”